Chapter Fifty-three
Sitting on the heavy wool blanket with his back against the wall Neal looked down at Peter who was fitfully sleeping in his lap. The space between distant rumblings of the subway above told Neal that another night had fallen, but he'd lost track of how many times that had happened. If they were rescued this instant and told that they'd been missing a year he would believe it. Guessing it had been closer to two months Neal briefly wondered if anyone still hung on to hope that they were alive. Mozzie and Elizabeth would be the last to give up on them, but at some point they would need to let them go if for no other reason than to be able to move on with their own lives.
Peter's weak congested cough warned Neal that they were starting to run out of hope themselves. It had been a few days since Peter had tried unsuccessfully to help Neal with his hydrophobia. During that time Peter's health had spiraled out of control. His broken ribs were preventing him from breathing deeply and it was taxing his already strained system leaving him vulnerable to pneumonia. Peter had been insisting he was fine, but it had reached a point where he couldn't even pretend to hide his weakness anymore. Neal didn't know what to do beyond trying to keep him comfortable. Jake hadn't been particularly helpful lately either, in fact he often only stayed with them for a few minutes at a time before disappearing for hours once more. Jake kept coming back and he looked like he wanted to tell them something, but he never did.
Jerking in his restless sleep Peter started audibly gasping as he started panting and whimpering in the grips of a nightmare. Reaching down Neal gently brushed Peter's hair off his forehead. Peter's skin was oddly dry and cold to the touch which confused Neal thinking that Peter should have a fever by now. Shivering violent Peter curled up a little tighter, seeking warmth. Carefully lifting Peter's head out of his lap Neal got up and readjusted the blanket they were on so that he could fold it over Peter. The blanket settled Peter down for the moment but he was still breathing fast and shallow.
Sitting next to him Neal pulled the blanket away just enough to expose the healed brand over Peter's heart. Leaning over him Neal gently pressed his ear against Peter's chest. Peter wouldn't let him listen to his lungs when he was awake so Neal had to take advantage of when he was sleeping. Closing his eyes to help him concentrate Neal tried to determine how dire things were getting. Thankfully Neal could still hear a good deal of air managing to rush into Peter's chest, there was a disturbing wheeze and clicking to both his in and exhalation, but at least he wasn't drowning in his own lungs. Feeling his own throat closing up at the thought Neal jerked slightly when Peter suddenly reached up and carded his hand into Neal's hair. Neal took Peter's hand in his own as he sat up. Peter let Neal keep his hand but looked up at him with an expression of mock disapproval.
"Sorry." Neal apologized without even trying to mean it.
"It's okay. I appreciate the concern."
"Should I even both asking how you're feeling?"
"No." Peter replied with a weak smile.
"Peter…"
Neal was cut off when Peter went into a violent coughing fit. Gripping down on Neal's hand Peter weld his eyes shut in agony at the wracking cough. Neal put his free hand down on Peter's chest and tried to will him to be calm. When he finally stopped Peter was left breathless and in an obvious haze of pain from his fractured ribs as he stared up at the ceiling. Feeling helpless Neal took his hand off Peter's chest and ran his fingers through Peter's hair that was suddenly soaked in cold sweat. Neal couldn't keep the anxiety out of his expression and when Peter caught sight of it he suddenly lost some his own courage. It broke Neal's heart to see so much fear reflected in Peter's eyes and he cursed himself for letting Peter see his own fear. When you're strong, I am strong was the motto they had gotten them this far, but the system was starting to fall apart as death approached.
"Neal…" Peter panted "I need you to do something for me."
"Anything."
"Find Jake…bring him back here."
"Why?"
"I messed up." Peter admitted. "I never should have sent him away."
"You were just trying to help me."
"I was." Peter closed his eyes wearily and nodded. "But I alienated him. I need to apologize. I need to make it right."
"Peter…"
"I need to know that Jake will protect you." Peter whispered as he started to fade again.
"Peter, don't worry about that right now."
"Find him." Peter ordered as he snapped his eyes open and fought to sit up. "Or I will."
"Easy, easy. You're not going anywhere." Neal said as he put his hand on Peter's chest to guide him back down. "I'll find Jake, in fact I'm willing to bet I know where he is."
"Thank you."
Proving that he wouldn't have made it to the door, let alone all the way to finding Jake, Peter closed his eyes and passed out. Sighing heavily Neal pulled the blanket over him again. Looking around their dank prison Neal hated to leave Peter alone, however, having made a promise he got to his feet and head out into the tunnels. On his way to find Jake Neal had another thought that hastened his step. Angry that he hadn't thought of the solution that thought of sooner Neal hunted Jake down hoping that he wasn't blind drunk.
Coming to the room that Jake used to take him to for 'training' Neal's heart dropped a little when he found Jake sitting in the back corner with a liquor bottle in hand. Not yet to the point of being black out drunk, but getting close, Jake looked up at Neal and smiled brightly. Neal ground his teeth together as Jake lifted the three quarters empty bottle in his direction in an invitation to join him. Stalking over to Jake Neal glared down at him.
"What the hell are you doing?" Neal demanded.
"Drinking." Jake answered simply. "How's Peter?"
"You know damn well how he is."
"Yeah…" Jake sighed sadly. "Broken ribs…that's not good."
"I need you to contact York for me."
"What?" Jake jolted as his eyes widened.
"I need to talk to him. Right now."
"There is nothing good that can come from a conversation like that." Jake replied sounding sober. "Neal…"
"Peter is sick, he needs medical attention or he is going to die soon. Also we have a fight coming up tomorrow night and he can't be allowed out into the ring."
"Don't worry, I promise Peter won't be in the ring tomorrow." Jake assured.
"Thank you for taking his fight, but he still needs medicine. I want to bargain with York."
"Neal, no." Jake said firmly. "Absolutely not. Does Peter know you're down here? You should go back to him. He needs you."
"Exactly, which is why I have to do this."
"Do you…do you understand what you're asking? You'd be safer dealing with the actual Devil."
"Clearly York keeps his promises."
"He does." Jake affirmed. "But the price is high. There is only one thing he's going to want from you. You know that, right?"
"I do."
Jake eyed Neal for a moment before shrugging. Putting the bottle down Jake fought to get to his feet. Neal offered him his hand and helped him up. Once standing Jake shook his head as if trying to clear the alcohol out of it. As soon as he was reasonably confident that he wasn't going to fall down Jake turned his attention to Neal.
"Alright, let's go."
"York is here now?" Neal asked surprised.
"No." Jake shook his head. "We're not going straight to York. We're going to go kill someone first."
"What?!"
"I beat a guy senseless the other day, he'll be a good one for you to cut your teeth on."
"Jake what are you talking about? How drunk are you?"
"Very." Jake confessed. "But if you want York to help Peter he's going to make you kill someone for it, so I think it best that you already have a notch in that belt of yours before we go to the trouble of asking him for any favors. Don't worry, I'll help you, but you need to be the one to deliver that final blow."
"Jake, this is crazy."
"Trust me, it's the only thing that York is going to want from you. I promise you that. You have nothing else to offer him, and at this point he doesn't really care if Peter dies so he's not going to be in a good bargaining mood."
"Ja..."
"So let's go bloody those hands of yours to prove you mean business."
Even though when Neal had requested to see York he knew this would be the cost he still balked when Jake put it into blunt words. Physically starting to shake at the thought of purposefully taking someone's life Neal reminded himself that Peter had already taken that step for him in the past. Pulling his shoulders back Neal looked at Jake and nodded.
"Fine."
"Really?" Jake asked skeptically.
"I'm not going to 'practice' kill anyone, but if that's what York's asks of me…I…I'll do it."
"That kind of hesitation is a weakness you can't show York. Are you sure about this?"
"Peter has killed for me, I'm willing to kill for him."
"That I don't doubt actually, but you are talking about two totally different acts, Neal." Jake said seriously. "When York has you murder it's not going to be anything like what Peter did for you. I'm willing to bet whoever Peter killed was a direct threat to your life. They probably had a gun aimed right at your heart, finger on the trigger, a split second from pulling it. Am I right?"
"…yes." Neal admitted.
"Even when Peter went to take out Sawyer he was a clear and immediate threat to you both. I have no doubt if someone was trying to kill Peter and your only choice was lethal force I fully believe you wouldn't hesitate. This won't be like that. You won't be defending Peter from anyone, you'll be murdering a stranger in cold blood. Or if he's feeling sadistic, and he often is, York will have you kill me."
"You?"
"My time is almost up, Neal, you and Peter have ruined me." Jake sighed heavily. "Don't get me wrong I'm endlessly grateful to be shown that I still have some humanity left, but it's just a matter of time before York decides that I'm completely useless because of it."
"Jake…"
"Do you think this is what Peter wants?" Jake asked suddenly. "Do you think he honestly wants to trade your innocents for a few more weeks of life in this torture pit? Do you think he will ever look at you the same if there's blood on your hands for him?"
"He can't blame me for saving his life."
"He won't blame you." Jake said confidently. "He'll blame himself."
Neal took a breath to retort but there was nothing he could say, Jake was right. Frustrated Neal dragged his hands through his hair with an angry growl. Jake sighed in sympathy before he bent down and picked the bottle up off the floor and offered it to Neal. Feeling the need for the alcohol's numbing effects Neal accepted it and took a deep pull. Jake took the bottle away from him before he could have any more and put his hand on Neal's shoulder.
"I will contact York for you if you insist, but if you really want to honor Peter you won't do this."
"I can't just do nothing…it's my fault, he never would have broken those ribs if he hadn't thrown that fight for York."
"Peter made the decision to barging knowing the risks, you had no control over that."
"Peter is dying because of me."
"No, Neal, he's dying for you."
